Reverse Engineering
by quietandsneaky
Summary: Normal life AU. Fourteen-year-old Dean and John have been fighting more than normal lately. Mary, tired of it, tells them both not to involve her anymore.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. **

Mary savored the silence of the early morning. She always got up an hour before John, much to his endless frustration. As Mary scooped more pancake mix into the pan, she hoped for a peaceful morning. John and Dean had been butting heads constantly lately. Dean was becoming the typical moody teenager, no longer the same little boy that hero-worshipped his Daddy. Dean was the exact opposite of ten-year-old Sammy, who was wanting to spend more and more time with his father these days. As she flipped the last of the pancakes and turned off the burner, Sammy came into the kitchen with John.

"Morning, mom!"

"Good morning, sweetheart." Mary said, thankful Sam still wanted a kiss from his mom in the morning. "Hi, babe."

"Hey." John said. "Breakfast smells good."

"Thanks. Is Dean up yet?"

"I can call him."

Mary looked at him and said seriously, "Could you please just go to his room and _ask _him _nicely_ to get up?"

John sighed. "I am plenty nice to that boy."

"That boy has a name, and he has asked you, over and over, to call him by it." Mary said. "John, please, don't start with him today."

"Start what?"

"Just be nice to him." Mary begged.

"Fine." John stood at the entrance to the kitchen and called up the stairs. "Boy, you've got two minutes to get down here." At Mary's frustrated look, John amended his statement with an only slightly sarcastic, "Please."

Mary shook her head and grabbed plates from the kitchen cabinet.

"What? I was nice to him."

"Just forget it, John." Mary said. "Sit down and eat breakfast."

"Mary…"

"I said forget it." Mary snapped.

John knew better than to push his luck, and sat down to have breakfast with Sam. The two of them talked quite congenially, and Mary wondered where the relationship between John and Dean had gone sour. She prepared a plate for Dean, then sat down with a plate of her own. Five minutes later, Dean walked in, fully dressed and with his backpack on his shoulder.

"It's about time." John said as a greeting.

Dean, who had made a promise to himself to get along better with his father, simply stopped for a moment, took a breath, and made an effort to grind out, "Good morning, Dad."

"I called you down here five minutes ago."

"I'm here now." Dean said.

"Don't get smart with me, boy." John snapped impatiently.

Dean's patience was beginning to match his father's. "If I see someone named 'boy' I'll be sure to let him know."

"Enough, you two." Mary said from the table. "Dean, come when your father calls you. John, he's asked you to stop yelling at him and start calling him by his name. Do it. Now sit down and eat breakfast and I don't want to hear another word about it from either of you. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean answered respectfully.

"Yes." John answered.

"Okay. Now, Dean, what are your plans for today?"

A slightly more relaxed, but still tense conversation passed between the family. It was Friday, and Sam would be straight home from school that day, but had a soccer game the next afternoon. Dean had tutoring after school.

"Are you actually gonna do your work today?"

"I always do, Dad." Dean said with a frown. He had only been downstairs for ten minutes, why was his dad riding him so hard already?

"We know you do." Mary said, trying to diffuse the upcoming situation. "Finish your breakfast, bud. Your bus'll be here in a few minutes."

"If you had gotten up when I told you to, you'd have more time."

A frustrated Dean threw his fork down on the table and stood up. "I'm leaving now. Thanks for breakfast, mom."

"Dean, wait…"

"Listen to your mother, boy. Sit back down and eat that breakfast she worked hard on for you." John said.

"Dad, stop. Stop calling me 'boy'. I'm not a dog!" Dean said, cheeks flushed and frustrated tears threatening to fall.

"John, stop it. Dean, do you want me to take you to your bus stop?"

"No thanks, Mom. I'll walk." Dean said.

"Okay. Have a good day, sweetie."

"Thanks."

Without waiting around to hear if his father would wish him a good day too, Dean grabbed his backpack and headed out the door, taking no special care not to slam it behind him. Mary could tell John wanted to sail from the table and grab Dean to lecture him about slamming the door, but she grabbed his shoulder and pointed to the chair. Mary sent an upset Sam out the door to wait by John's truck to take him to his elementary school.

"Don't even think about it. You started that, and you deserve it."

"So I have to cater to his every whim but he can slam that door and yell at me?"

"God, you are worse than a teenager sometimes! What every whim? He's made two requests from you. Don't yell at him and don't call him 'boy'. You know it gets under his skin and you do it on purpose."

"I didn't yell at him, and I can't always help it."

"You don't do it to Sam." Mary pointed out. 

"Because Sam doesn't treat me with the same disrespect that Dean does."

Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. John was the love of her life, but she could honestly slap him silly sometimes. He infuriated her. John seemed to sense that he was crossing a line, but was too stubborn to back down. Mary opened her eyes and spoke calmly and evenly.

"John, I am disagreeing with you right now. Am I disrespecting you?"

"No." John admitted reluctantly.

"This is exactly the tone of voice that Dean used when he asked you politely to stop talking to him the way that you do. It makes him feel like he has to walk on eggshells in his own home. Like you don't want to be around him. I understand that Dean is moody sometimes, and he doesn't always speak very respectfully. But the best way to get him to stop is to be respectful to him. Now I understand that the boys respecting you is very important to you. But you have to show it to Dean if you want to get it back from Dean. When you deliberately ignore something he asked you very nicely to do, you are not respecting him. And if you keep it up, you'll not only continue to be at odds with Dean, you'll start getting in trouble with me too. Now I'm going to make this really simple for you. Stop treating Dean like crap. I don't like it, and I won't put up with it much longer. Clear?"

"Clear."

"Good. Now, if you want, I will talk to him too. But I'm putting you on notice. You want Dean to treat you differently, you're gonna have to do the same."

"Got it." John said.

"Good." Mary walked over, kissed John's cheek and wrapped arms around his neck, finally making him smile. "I love you. You're a good dad. Just loosen up some. Okay?"

"Okay. I love you too."

"Alright. Now go to work. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."

After a couple more kisses, John was out the door and headed towards Sam's school then his own job. Mary wished that she had made Dean wait for her. She was worried about him. Dean was struggling in school, not just academically but socially. His best friend had moved away over the summer, and he was missing Jimmy terribly. Once a week tutoring was also tough on him. He got teased for it by his classmates. Mary tried to temper the teasing by praising Dean for any progress he made in his grades, even if it was just a point or two. But her praise tended to be overshadowed when the first words out of John's mouth would be 'why haven't you done better'? Mary shook her head to clear her thoughts. Right now, the breakfast dishes were waiting. She'd have to come up with a plan for John and Dean later.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a three-block walk to Dean's bus stop, and he was frustrated. He kicked small rocks on the sidewalk on the way, pretending they were his dad's face. He just didn't get it. He was trying hard in school. He was being respectful to his dad, even when his dad refused to treat him the same way. Even when he kept his mouth shut and said nothing, his dad would jump down his throat. Dean would kill to be able to talk to his dad. About school, about missing Jimmy, about girls, even about the weather. But every time he went to try, he'd done something to upset his dad and would just get chewed out or yelled at again.

At the same time Dean was thinking what he was about his dad, John's mind was on Dean too. He and Sam were almost at his school, a gifted school on the other end of town, near John's garage. Sam had talked to John during the trip, but John had only half been listening. He'd gotten to Sam's school early, so instead of pulling into the drop off lane, he parked in the parking lot.

"Dad? Did you hear me?"

"What, buddy? Sorry, I was off in my own world there." John said. "What'd you say?"

"I said you're coming tomorrow, right? To my game?"

"Wouldn't miss it." John smiled.

"You okay, Dad?"

"Am I that obvious?" John asked.

"You look like you're upset. You want to talk about it?"

John thought about changing the subject, but decided to get an honest opinion. "I have a question, and I want you to answer me honestly. Okay?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Is it my fault that Dean and I don't get along?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Sam. I need your input. Do you think I'm too rough on Dean?"

"Honestly? I won't get in trouble?"

"No trouble. For you or him." John promised.

"Well, you're not very nice to him sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"Like this morning. I know he was late, but you didn't even say good morning to him or anything. You always seem to be mad at him."

John felt a prick of guilt. Sam was right. Dean hadn't even been in the kitchen for ten minutes that morning and John had picked him apart no less than three times.

"Dad? I'm not trying to make you feel bad."

"You're not, Sam. I asked, it's okay."

"Dean tries really hard. He just wants to make you happy. But with Jimmy gone and not helping with his schoolwork anymore, it's a lot harder for him."

"That makes sense, bud. Thanks for the tip." John said.

John drove away feeling like he had a much better grasp on the situation than he did that morning. He felt a little ashamed that he needed a ten-year-old to show it to him, but all day he was trying to come up with ideas to make up that morning to Dean. He didn't want to fight with Dean either. The problem was that he never thought of it as fighting. He thought of it as trying to be Dean's father. Stay on him about manners, about school, about becoming a good man in general. _But you can't teach him to be a good man if you're not good to him_, John's inner voice told him.

"I'm sorry, Dean." John said to himself, hoping he'd get the chance to tell him that night.

Dean walked to the office with his backpack, and he couldn't help smiling to himself. He had the perfect thing to make his dad happy now. He'd gotten his first B all on his own. Sure, the assignment itself wasn't that big a deal, just a random science pop quiz, but Dean was proud of it. He'd been the last person to turn the quiz in, and he'd heard the snickers as he walked up to his teacher's desk. But when he got his paper back, with a big B- and a note from Mrs. Amberson that read 'big improvement-I'm very proud of you, Dean :)', Dean had forced himself not to cry in happiness. Twenty minutes later, at the beginning of his last class, he'd gotten called to the office with the announcement that he was being dismissed for the day. Mary was there waiting for him.

"Hi, mom."

"Hey." Mary had to remind herself that Dean didn't like getting hugs at school anymore. "How was school?"

"Good. Why'd you pick me up early? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. I thought we could go for ice cream before I picked up Sammy from school. What do you think?"

"Cool! But what about tutoring?"

"I talked to Marina. She said she'd do another day with you next week."

"Cool. Let's go." The two of them were sitting at a table with massive sundaes in front of them before Dean couldn't stand the wait anymore. "So what's going on, Mom?"

"I want to talk to you. About Dad."

Dean was suddenly not as excited, though he took another bite of his ice cream. "What about him?"

"Well, you two have been arguing a lot lately. Can you tell me why?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know."

"Come on, Dean. I'm your mom. I know when something's up. Talk to me." Mary pushed.

"I'm not trying to ignore you, Mom. I really don't know. It just feels like every time I walk in the room, Dad finds something to nitpick me about. I try to be patient about it, but it bothers me."

"I know it does." Mary said sympathetically.

"Then there's stuff like this morning. Dad tells me I can talk to him if something's bothering me. I tell him that something's bothering me, I'm real nice about it, and he does it for a couple days, then when he gets irritated he does it on purpose." Dean knew he was rambling, but he didn't care. "And he can get as mad at me about it as he wants, but when I fight back, I'm the bad guy. He didn't even say good morning to me or anything this morning."

"I know your dad was mean to you this morning. I got on him about that."

"You did?"

"I did. I told him he had to start being nicer to you or he'd be in trouble with me too."

"Wow. Thanks, Mom." Dean said with a smile.

"You're welcome. But I need the same from you too."

"I know." Dean said.

"Honey, you know it scares your dad when doors are slammed." Mary said.

"I know." Dean said. "I'm sorry, Mom." 

"You need to tell your Dad that. Okay?"

"I will."

"And I need you to do me a favor. If your Dad's getting on your nerves, I want you to be extra nice to him."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"If he's nitpicking you, just agree with him. 'Yes, sir' him to death. Don't let him get under your skin."

Dean was disappointed. He never thought he'd hear his mom tell him to let anyone, even his dad, run over him. "Yes, ma'am."

"Dean, I'm not telling you to let your dad be a jerk to you. You have every right to expect him to be as nice to you as he wants you to be to him. If he says anything at all that really bothers you, do what I said and then tell me about it. I'll talk to your dad about it from there. Hopefully, you two can get to the point where you'll be able to talk about it yourself."

"I appreciate it, Mom, I really do."

"But…?"

"But that's too much work. I should be able to talk to Dad without going through you. I know I shouldn't have slammed the door this morning, but Dad jumps on me sometimes before I even know what I did wrong. It feels like he looks for something to make me feel like crap about."

"I know it's hard to believe sometimes, Dean, but your Dad loves you."

"Doesn't feel like it a lot of the time."

Mary smiled. "I have a story for you. Do you remember when you had your tonsils taken out?"

"A little. Why?"

"Well, I was pregnant with Sammy. You woke up with a sore throat and a little bit of a fever. Your dad swore up and down that you needed to go to the hospital. I kept trying to tell him that you just had a bad cold or _maybe _the flu, and that I would take you to your doctor later that afternoon. Your dad left for work, but he came back an hour later."

"Why?"

"Because he said he couldn't focus at work. He bundled you up and put you in the car, me telling him the whole time that you weren't sick enough for the hospital. Sure enough, we went to the ER, and your tonsils were so infected that they took you into surgery almost right away."

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Really. I never doubted your dad's intuition again. And I was hearing 'I told you so' for weeks. But while you were in the hospital, your dad sat right by your bed the entire time. And when you woke up crying because you were scared, he picked you up and held you until they released you. And when you got home and didn't want to sleep by yourself, your dad slept in his recliner with you. He stayed attached to your hip until you were completely better."

"I remember Dad being there the whole time, but I didn't remember him doing all that." Dean said.

"You have to remember this, Dean. Your dad does love you. He's just not always that good at showing it. He's gone from being your hero, the guy that couldn't do any wrong, to being the guy that's watching you need him less and less. He worries about you, and that can make him seem kind of upset and mad at you when he's really not. Does that make sense?"

"It doesn't seem to bother you that much."

"It does bother me. But I think I handle it a little better than your dad does."

"I'll say." Dean said.

"Just give my suggestion a go for a few days. If you really don't think it's working, we'll try something else. Deal?"

"Deal. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. Now, I'm taking Sammy out tonight for a movie. I want you to spend that time with your dad. I don't care what you guys do, but I want you to spend some time together. Okay?"

"Okay, Mom." Dean said. He was a little nervous about being alone with his father, but maybe it would be fun. "Oh, wait. I have something to show you." Dean dug in his backpack and pulled out his quiz.

Mary's jaw dropped in honest surprise. "Dean. This is amazing. Is this a pop quiz?"

"Yeah. It was."

"I'm so proud of you." Mary said, making Dean blush. "I mean it. The fact that you passed a quiz you didn't know you were gonna have tells me you're studying every night. Dean, this is great."

"Thanks, Mom." Dean said.

"Make sure you show this to your Dad tonight."

_Like he'll care._ "I will."

"Alright. Finish your sundae and let's head home." As they climbed into Mary's car, she hoped to herself that some quality bonding time between John and Dean would help. Going twenty-four hours without a fight would be the closest thing to a miracle in the Winchester family that she could think of. _Only one way to find out_, she thought, and drove on towards home.


	3. Chapter 3

"That was so cool, Mom! Thanks for going with me. I know you don't really like those kinds of movies."

"I actually kinda liked it."

The admission was a hard one for Mary, but she actually had enjoyed _Jurassic Park_, though not for the reasons that Sam thought. Mary had agreed to go to the movie because she'd had a crush on Jeff Goldblum for years. She hadn't told anyone that, even John, and she hoped that no one ever found out. Mary realized she'd left her sweater in the car, and told Sam to go on inside. When she turned back around, she found Sam standing next to the door looking upset. Before she could ask what was wrong, she heard it. Raised voices coming from inside the house. John and Dean were fighting again.

"Come on, Sammy."

"I don't want to go in. I don't like listening to them yell at each other."

"I don't like it either, baby. Come on, I'll put a stop to it."

"Can I just go on to my room?" Sam asked.

"Sure. Go ahead. I'll be up soon."

Sam and Mary stepped inside, and Sam went straight to his bedroom. Mary could see him trying to hide it, but there were tears brimming on the edge of Sam's eyes. She knew he'd be heading to his room to cry. Sam was right on the cusp of thinking he was too big to cry when he was upset. Mary heard his door shut and walked into the kitchen, where John and Dean were going at each other so hard that they hadn't even heard her and Sam come in.

"Why can't you be more like your brother, Dean?"

"Why can't you be more like Mom…?"

"ENOUGH!" Mary shouted loud enough that both of them jumped. "What in the hell is going on here?"

"Mom…"

"Nothing we can't handle…"

"Both of you. Stop talking." Mary said. "Sit down."

John and Dean took a seat, trying to stay as far apart from each other as they could. Had she not been so aggravated with them, she might have found it comical-they both had exactly the same look on their face. Mary took one deep breath before speaking.

"I don't know what has gotten into you two lately, but I've had it. I have tried to help you work through your issues, but all I get for it is more fighting between you and an upset Sam. Who, by the way, is in his room crying right now because his daddy and big brother won't stop screaming at each other. Now, from this point forward, if you two argue, you're on your own. Do not come to me complaining about each other, don't ask me to break up your fights. And if you fight in front of Sam and upset him, I will make you both leave the house until you calm down. Am I understood?"

"But, Mom…"

"No buts. From either of you. I'm done. I'm not getting in the middle of you anymore. You work out your own problems. Now, one more time. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Dean muttered.

"Yes."

"Okay. Now I'm going to Sam's room to check on him. That might be good for the two of you to do too. Now good night."

Mary turned to walk up to Sam's room, leaving a stewing John and Dean alone in the kitchen. Both of them wanted to get their stories out, but now there was no one to listen to them except each other. Dean was the first to leave, and John didn't bother to stop him. Dean went to his room and closed the door, lying down on his bed and thinking about the argument. The night had started off fairly simple. Dad suggested they pick a movie to watch themselves. Dean had been a little weary at the suggestion, as he and John had different tastes in movies, but he'd agreed.

They'd made dinner together, and John had started asking questions about school. Dean didn't really want to talk about school, as he didn't enjoy it anymore without Jimmy there, but he'd answered the questions politely enough. He could tell John was getting annoyed at him not talking very much, but he couldn't help it. Dean decided to break the tension by bringing out his quiz like his mom suggested. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Instead of being happy and giving Dean the little bit of praise he so craved, John had looked at the paper, examined it for a moment, then asked,

"How about next time shooting for an A?"

That was the moment Dean gave up. When Sam came home with good grades after barely working for them, he got a pat on the shoulder and a 'good job' from both Mary and John. Sam even got to go to a special school and spend every morning with John on the twenty minute ride to his school. John never asked if Dean wanted to be driven to school. When Dean came home with a good grade that he'd worked his butt off for, all he got for it was told to do better next time. He made up his mind that he would never be good enough for his dad, so he'd stop trying.

In the kitchen, John was lost. Where had the night gone wrong? Things were going really, really well. Dean was a little less responsive than John would've liked, but John had just decided to keep trying. When Dean had given him the pop quiz from that day, John had been incredibly proud of him. He knew that if Dean kept working hard, his grades could one day come up to the same level as his brothers. He'd meant what he'd said to be encouraging, but Dean clearly didn't see it that way. He'd started to apologize, but when Dean snatched his quiz back from John's hands and it ripped in two, John saw red. He'd lectured Dean, again, on respect, and asked him why he couldn't be more like his brother. Dean had come back with 'why can't you be more like mom', and that had been the moment Mary walked in. When had things gone so bad? Would they ever be back to the way they'd been when Dean was little? John shook his head and walked up to his bedroom.

When Mary came back into the kitchen a half hour later, she found that both John and Dean were gone. She shook her head and then saw something sitting at the top of the trash can pile. It was Dean's quiz. Mary immediately realized what had happened. John had said something about Dean's quiz grade, probably about how he could do better next time, and Mary's heart dropped. She wondered if John realized just how hard Dean had worked for that B. If he knew that simply telling Dean he was proud of him was all Dean wanted. She felt terrible then for cutting Dean off, and went to apologize to him. She had heard the front door shut and figured that John had gone for a run. But when she walked past their bedroom, she saw John lying down on their bed. Mary went to Dean's door and knocked, hoping she was wrong about what she thought had happened. Dean's room was empty, and there was a note on his dresser, addressed to 'Mom and Dad and Sammy'.

Dean had run away.


	4. Chapter 4

Mary felt her heart constrict as she walked inside Dean's room and picked up the note. Her hands shook and she held back tears as she unfolded it, hoping that Dean had just gone outside or taken a walk as she read.

_Hey guys. _

_If you cared enough to come up and find this, you know I left. If you're worried, I'm sorry. But I can't take this anymore. _

_Dad, I'm sorry I'm not the son you wanted. I can't make the grades Sammy does, or always be happy like Sammy is, or be as patient as he is. I try so hard to make you proud of me and all you ever tell me is how I can do it better or how I should have done it in the first place. It just feels like I'll never be good enough for you. Mom says that you love me and you're just not that good at showing it, but I don't really buy that. You've got no trouble hugging and kissing Mom and telling her that you love her. You tell Sam he did great every time he brings home a good grade or finishes his chores. You're always hanging out with him and going to stuff at his school or his soccer games, but you never ask if I want to do anything together. You only hung out with me tonight because Mom made you. _

_I'm trying hard, Dad. But I feel like I'm drowning. Me and Jimmy were best friends since we were three. He's the reason I passed every single grade. He's the reason I actually used to like school. I feel like I'm drowning, and every time Mom helps and pulls my head up above the water, you just push it right back down. I just want to be able to talk to you, Dad. Really talk to you without being yelled at or pushed around. _

_Mom, I'm sorry to you too. I didn't know it bothered you so much when Dad and I argued. But I liked talking to you because any time Dad made me feel like I couldn't measure up, you'd make me feel better. Like I could do anything. But I get it now. You only did that because you felt like you had to. I still appreciate it, but don't worry. I won't ask you to again. _

_Sammy, I'm sorry Dad and I scared you when we were fighting. But with me gone now, it shouldn't be a problem. Thanks for always being a good brother, even when I maybe wasn't so great to you. Stay good, kiddo. Take care of Mom and Dad for me. You're smart, Sam. Really smart. Figure out where I went wrong and stay away from it, then maybe you won't have the same problems with Dad that I do. Hope to see you soon, bro. Love you, squirt.  
_

_I have to go now. Love you guys. _

_-Dean_

A heartbroken Mary read the letter through one more time. She was frozen in place, and she was beating herself up. Dean liked to pretend he was tough, but at his core, he was still a sensitive little boy. She should have known that telling Dean he couldn't come to her and talk about something bothering him would translate in his head to 'mom doesn't care anymore'.

"Oh, Dean."

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Mary turned, hoping that Dean had changed his mind and come back. But it was Sam.

"Sammy. Come here. I have a job for you." Mary walked over and placed both hands on Sam's shoulders. "I need you, very carefully, to walk up and down the street and see if you see Dean."

"Dean? Where is he?"

"I don't know, Sammy."

"He ran away, didn't he?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. He did. But he hasn't been gone long, so I need you to walk to each end of the street and see if you see Dean. Sammy, this is really important, and I need you to do this, okay?"

"But it's dark outside."

"Stay under the streetlights and you'll be fine. Can you do this for me?"

"Yeah, Mom. If he's here, I'll find him."

"Thank you, Sam. Go." Mary walked to her bedroom, where John was still stewing on their bed. "Tell me right now what happened tonight."

"I thought you said you didn't want to hear it."

"Shut up and answer me." Mary said, shoving Dean's note into John's hands.

"What is this?" 

"Read it. Fast. And then answer my damn question. What happened tonight?"

John read over the note that Mary handed him, and Mary could see the words registering on his face. She could see the truth setting in, and the guilt etched all over his face. John immediately stood up and grabbed his car keys from the nightstand.

"I'll go out and look for him."

"I've got Sam doing that."

"He's ten!"

"He's going up and down the street. If he doesn't find Dean, then you'll go out and look for him. Until then, tell me now. What happened?"

"Dean and I decided to watch a movie. We made dinner together and I was talking to him about school. He brought out the quiz and showed it to me, then snatched it out of my hand. That's what started the fight."

"What did you say?" Mary asked. "When he gave you that quiz, what did you say?"

"I told him he should try for an A next time."

Mary had never felt such rage towards anyone. It boiled up inside her and she had to push it down to keep from exploding. She turned from John, placed both hands on her hips and tried to remind herself that John hadn't deliberately hurt Dean.

"Mary?"

"Is it so hard" Mary said, slowly and carefully, "to tell him that you are proud of him?"

"I am…"

"Then why can't you tell him? John, you _have_ to say it. You have to actually say the words."

"I know that. I thought I did…"

"John, no. Listen to me. Dean needs to hear you actually say the words 'I am proud of you'. He needs to hear you say that he did a good job. I have told you this before. Why can't you get that your thick, stubborn head?" Mary's voice was rising steadily as she talked, and she was barely restraining herself from shouting.

"Mom?"

Mary turned to the door. Sam was back. "Did you see anything, honey?"

"No. But Dean's bike is gone."

"What?"

"I looked in the garage to see if Dean's bike was there. It's gone." Sam's voice was shaking. "Mom, where's Dean?"

"I don't know, honey. But we're gonna find him, okay? Stay in here with your dad."

"Where you going?"

"I'm calling the police."

"Mary, I'll go out…" John said.

"No." Mary turned around and glared at John. "We are getting the police involved. We are not arguing about this. You've done enough damage for one night. Stay here and comfort your son. I'm calling the police and asking the neighbors to help."

Sam was standing in the doorway freely crying. Mary gave him a quick hug and kiss and told him to sit with his dad. Sam walked into the bedroom and climbed up next to John, who pulled the scared boy into his lap and held him close. As he comforted Sam, the dark thought crossed his mind _maybe if you'd shown this much care to Dean he wouldn't have run away._

"Dad? Is Dean gonna be okay?" Sam asked tearfully.

He didn't care now about whether or not he was crying. Even bigger kids would have cried being this scared. Even Dean, his much bigger and tougher brother, would have cried being this scared. He searched John's face for hope, for some sign of certainty that his brother would come back and everything would be okay again. John tried to force a smile and gently wiped the tears off Sam's face. He looked so much younger at the moment, more like a scared toddler than a soon to be preteen. _Like Dean did when he was that age_.

"Yeah, buddy. Dean's gonna be just fine."

"He's coming home, right?"

"Yes. Mom and I are gonna make sure of that."

"Why'd he run? Doesn't he love us anymore?"

"Of course he does, Sam. Dean loves us a lot. He ran because…" John choked. The admission was painful but it had to come out.

"Why, Dad?"

"Because he doesn't think that _I_ love him anymore."

"Is this 'cause of all the fighting you guys have been doing lately?"

"Yeah. It is." John said. "I hurt Dean's feelings tonight and I didn't mean to. He left after that."

"Can I help look for him?"

John sighed. He knew Sam wanted to help, but he wanted at least one kid in his sight right now. "I'll tell you what. I'm giving you the most important job of all."

"What's that?"

"I want you to make Dean something for when he gets home. Something that shows him how much we love him. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure." Sam said. "Can I start right now?"

John checked the clock. It was close to Sam's bedtime, but he knew that Sam would never be able to sleep right now. Neither would Mary or John. "Yeah, bud. You can start right now. Just stay in your room or, if you want some company, come out and find me or Mom. Okay?"

"Okay, Dad. I'll do it." Sam climbed off the bed, then turned back to John. "Hey, Dad? I know you're upset. But Dean loves you. Just tell him you're sorry and you didn't mean to do it and he'll forgive you."

_I hope so, Sammy. _"I know, bud. Thanks."

"I'm going to my room now."

"Hey, Sam? Can I have a hug?"

Sam climbed onto the bed and wrapped both arms around his dad's neck. Hugs were increasingly rare among the three men in the family as Sam and Dean got older. _Maybe that's part of the problem,_ John thought. Sam left and went to his room, then decided to grab his paper and art supplies and stay in his parent's room to keep John company. Mary came back and grabbed her car keys.

"Jeanette and Mike are helping me search. The police'll be here soon to take a report. I'm going to drive around and try to find him."

"Mary…"

"Not now." Mary said. She pointedly walked around, avoiding John, and kissed Sam's cheek. "I'll be back. I'm going to look for Dean. You can stay up later than your bedtime if you need to, but try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Can I sleep in here if you don't find Dean tonight?" Sam whispered in Mary's ear.

"Count on it." She gave him another kiss on the cheek, then left.

John turned to Sam, trying to keep up a brave face that he didn't really feel. "So. What are you working on, Sam?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Eighteen Hours Later_

_3:00 the Next Afternoon_

Dean had not thought this through very well.

He sat on the floor of the bus station in the small town next to Lawrence, trying to decide if he'd be okay until he reached Jimmy's that night. He'd taken all the money he'd saved up over the past few weeks and bought himself a bus ticket. It wasn't much, but just enough to buy the ticket and a little food. The trip to Jimmy's was only supposed to take six hours. So, he decided, the candy bar last night and the small order of cold French fries he was eating now would be enough.

Dean thought about calling Jimmy to tell him he was coming, but he didn't want to chance Jimmy's parents, who he called aunt Lisa and uncle Jack, picking up and calling his own parents. Dean had abandoned his bike in the middle of town before arriving, hoping to throw himself off his parent's trail. He'd seen his parent's friends, aunt Jennie and uncle Mike, out looking for him, and he'd hidden in bushes avoiding them. He'd also seen his mom, walking around and calling his name. She'd actually gotten close enough to him that he could see the worried look on her face. Dean felt bad for worrying her, but he knew that he was doing the right thing. If Dean was gone, he and Dad wouldn't fight anymore and Mom could be happy and Sam wouldn't be crying because of them.

Dean saw another of his neighbors walk into the bus station, the older lady who had all the cats down the street whose name escaped Dean. He didn't think she was looking for him, but he got up and went into the bathroom again just to be sure. He double checked the clock; he had another hour and a half before his bus started to board. He decided to sit in the corner of the bathroom until five minutes before departure time. He reached into his schoolbag, which he'd brought with him in case he got bored, and pulled out one of his comic books. He could hear his dad's voice. _Dean, you need to leave those home. They'll only distract you in school._ Dean had tried to explain that his teacher was letting him write a report on the comic book for extra credit in his English class, but John had just cut him off and gone off into another lecture about how education was important and blah, blah, blah. Dean had stopped listening after the first couple sentences.

Eventually, Dean realized he was tired. He hadn't slept at all the night before. He was going on almost two full days with no sleep. It was hard to keep his eyes open, so Dean took his jacket and laid it against the corner. A short nap couldn't hurt.

Back at home, Sam, John, and Mary were just as exhausted. Sam had slept fitfully the night before, John and Mary not at all. When Sam had woken up and realized that Dean wasn't back yet, he'd gotten angry and accused John of not helping to look for him. John had snapped at him and made him cry, leading to another fight with Mary over snapping at Sam, which only made Sam cry even more. Sam's soccer game was all but forgotten. His soccer coach had called when Sam hadn't shown up, but when John explained that Dean was missing, the coach was more than sympathetic. He even volunteered to help with the search after the game was over, and ask other parents at the game if they would be willing to volunteer too. A grateful John accepted the offer, hoping that more bodies would produce faster results.

Sam was napping at the moment, and for the first time since Dean had gone missing, John and Mary were both at the house. Neither one talked, both still stuck in their respective self-loathing. John blamed himself, Mary blamed John and herself, and poor Sam was just miserable. She got up to make herself a cup of coffee and found John going through old photographs.

"What are you looking at?"

"Dean's first fishing trip." John said.

"The one where you asked him to tell me that you caught all the fish?" Mary asked.

John smiled a little. "Yeah. That one."

Mary sighed. "John, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Blaming all this on you. It's not all your fault. It's mine too."

John looked up and Mary saw that he'd been crying. She felt her heart break all over again, this time for John. She'd only seen him cry once-when Sam's umbilical cord had been tied around his neck at birth and he'd been come out not breathing. He'd told Mary later that Sam was blue when he was born, and John had been certain he was dead.

"I'm gonna protect these kids with my life if I have to. I never want to feel that helpless again."

"What do you mean it's your fault?" John asked.

"I should have known better than to tell Dean he couldn't come talk to me about something that was bothering him. I should have known that he'd hear 'Mom doesn't care anymore' instead of just to calm down."

"Babe, it's not your fault…"

"How about a truce? We both agree we played a part and stop blaming each other. It's not helping."

"Deal." John said. He turned back towards the photo, and Mary noticed another tear drop onto it. It landed right onto little Dean's smiling face.

"Oh, honey." Mary sat down next to him and pulled him into a hug. She could feel him silently crying, and held him a little tighter than normal.

"I love him so much."

"I know you do." Mary said. "Baby, I know you do."

"Then why doesn't he feel it?" John asked. "I swear I don't try to make him feel bad about himself. But it always come out that way."

"Listen to me. I know you didn't hurt Dean on purpose. I know you'd never do that. You are a good dad. These boys are lucky to have you."

"Will you help me?"

"Help you what?"

"Learn to talk to him." John said. "Show me how to make him feel like I do love him."

Mary smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. Why don't you come to the kitchen and get some coffee with me?"

"I'm full to the gills on coffee. If you're okay, I think I'll go search."

Mary wanted to say no, that she needed his company, but he'd been sitting at the house long enough. It was her turn now. She knew John needed to be in the action, feel like he was physically doing something, or he'd go crazy. She decided to forget the coffee and go lay down in her bed with the phone beside her. Sam was napping in there at the moment, so she could watch him sleep and hope that Dean either called or came home. She kissed John for a moment then said,

"Sure. I'm going to lay down with Sam; call me if you find him."

"Of course. I'll be back."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you more."

When John left, after putting on his jacket and shoes, Mary was lying down with the cordless phone between her and a sleeping Sam. She'd also brought with her the photo of Dean that John had been holding. She placed it on the pillow next to her, then reached out and ran a hand gently against Sam's cheek. Sam didn't even stir, and Mary felt a whole new appreciation for having at least one child safe in the house.

"Come back home, Dean. Please. We miss you so much."


	6. Chapter 6

"Kid. Hey, kid. Get up."

Dean felt a slight kick to his side, enough to gain his attention but not to hurt. He pushed the offending boot away and tried to curl up and go back to sleep. The boot poked him in the side again.

"Kid, get up. If I tell you again, I call the cops."

'Cops' got Dean awake and made him sit straight up. "What time is it?"

"It's close to midnight."

"What?" Dean checked his watch and saw that the stranger waking him up was right. He'd missed his bus. "Damn it."

"How old are you, kid?"

Dean swallowed, not sure he could lie convincingly. His stomach growled and he was still foggy from his apparently full eight hours of sleep. "Eighteen."

"Yeah. Right."

"I'll leave." Dean said.

"Come on, kid. Why don't you go home?"

"Look, I said I'll leave, okay? Why don't you mind your own business?"

"Okay, kid. Relax. The station closes in ten minutes. I can't let you stay here." The stranger bent down and picked up Dean's backpack and handed it to him. "Look, I'm not gonna ask you what's going on. I was in your position one time when I was about your age. Why don't you wait out by my car and I'll give you a ride to the homeless shelter."

"I'm not homeless." Dean said.

"Okay. But you can't stay."

"Fine. Can I use the bathroom then go?"

"Sure."

The stranger, who was the security guard that protected the bus station during the day, thought that the kid looked familiar. He stepped outside as Dean went into the bathroom and checked the photo behind the ticket counter. Sure enough, this was the kid they were looking for. Dean came out of the bathroom and tried to sneak out the door. His boss had given it to him when he showed up for his shift, explaining that the kid was fourteen and had run away from home, and to call the parents right away if he saw him. The security guard called the kid over. _Dean_ was written on the back of the photo.

"Dean. Stop." Dean stopped at the door, surprised by being called by someone he didn't know. This gave the security guard enough time to walk across the room towards him. "Sit down, kiddo."

"I'm leaving."

"I know you're not eighteen. You're fourteen. Your parents have been looking for you for two days, kid."

"I doubt it." Dean said.

"Why? Why are you so afraid to go home?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Because you can talk to me now or I can call your parents and then follow you so they can find you."

Dean sighed. He knew this guy, whatever his name was, was serious. He also knew that he wouldn't get very much further if he tried to run again. He had no more money, he was hungry, he was tired, and there wasn't anywhere he could really go without someone sending him back to his parents.

"Come on. Let's sit down. I'm gonna lock up and then we'll talk."

Dean took the security guard's invitation and sat down in the chairs next to the front door. The security guard locked up the station and turned most of the lights off, then came back and joined Dean. He had in his hand two halves of a sandwich, one of which he handed to Dean, and two bottles of apple juice.

"Here. You look hungry."

"No thanks." Dean said, even though his stomach was rumbling.

"Come on, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? My name's George. Let's just eat this and talk for a minute."

Dean's stomach rumbled again, and he couldn't deny any longer that he was starving. He reached out and took one of the sandwiches and bottles of juice from George, then waited to see what he would say.

"Go ahead and eat, kid."

Dean took his first cautious bite. "Are you gonna make me go back home?"

"I don't know. Why'd you run?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is your family hurting you?" George asked. "Is that why you ran away?"

"No."

"Then what happened?" George asked. "You get in a fight with your old man or something?"

"Or something."

"Look, I ain't got all night. My wife'll turn me inside out if I ain't home soon. So you can tell me what happened and I can decide whether or not to send you home."

Dean took another cautious bite and looked down to the floor. "My dad doesn't like anything that I do, and my mom said she doesn't want to deal with it anymore."

George smiled knowingly. "Ah, I get it."

"You do?"

"Yep." George took the first bite of his sandwich and looked back to Dean. "Let me guess. You feel like your dad's always pickin' on everything that you do."

"Yeah."

"Do you have a little brother or sister? One he's always doting on, making out like they're perfect?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Because my son and I had the same fight when he was about your age." George said. "He swore up and down I liked his little sister more than him. He even ran away from home too."

"Did you guys make up?"

"We did. After he got back home, I apologized to him and we had a long talk about everything."

Dean scoffed. "I don't think my dad knows how to apologize."

"You'd be surprised." George said. "Listen, bud, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Dads are idiots sometimes."

"What?"

"You heard me. Dads are idiots sometimes. A good one always wants to do what's best for his kids, but it doesn't always come out that way. Whatever happened with you and your dad, I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you."

"That's not what made me run though. I'm used to that. But my mom said I couldn't talk to her anymore if we were fighting."

"Think about this. Does your mom work real hard? For you and your dad?"

"Yeah. She does." Dean admitted.

"Which means she probably loves you _and _your dad, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

"So how do you think it makes her feel to watch the two people she loves the most in the world fighting with each other? To listen to you both complaining about each other? It's like tug of war for her. If she helps one, she feels like she's hurting the other. Does that make sense?"

"I guess."

"Listen, Dean. Nothing gets solved by running away. Did you know your Dad's been all over town the last two days looking for you?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I went grocery shopping for my wife last night and he was taking your picture up to everyone in the store asking if they'd seen you. I swear he'd been crying."

"Crying? Over me?"

George nodded. "He needs you, kid. Why don't you give another chance?"

Dean didn't really want to, but he knew George was right. "Okay. I'll go home."

"Good. Look, I can call your parents and ask them to come here to pick you up, or I'll take you home myself. Which one?"

"Call them." Dean said. He decided this would be the test. If they came to get him, it meant they really did want him back. "Call them, please."

"Alright. Don't go sneaking out on me, okay? You do and I'll call the cops to go after you."

"I won't."

"Alright. Eat your sandwich. Matter of fact, eat mine too. I hate chicken salad. I'll go call your mom and dad."

Dean finished his sandwich in under two more bites, and George's half in two more. He was starving. Five minutes later, a teary eyed Mary and an exhausted looking John stood in the doorway of the bus station. Sam was standing with John, rubbing his eyes and looking tired and sad.

"Dean?"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: It took a little while, but I finished! Yaaaayyyyy! Fair warning, the ending's a little corny. **

"Dean?"

Dean started to walk over to his mother, but Sam shocked them all when he broke free from John's grasp and ran over to Dean. His fists started to fly faster than anyone could see, and he had punched Dean in the nose and the eye before John was pulling him off his brother.

"You're a big ol' jerk, Dean! We were worried sick about you!"

"Samuel! Calm down right now!" John said, though the command was made more out of surprise than genuine authority.

Mary checked Dean over, and was relieved to find that his nose wasn't bleeding. "Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine, Mom." Dean said. "Let me talk to Sammy first, please." 

"Okay. One second." Mary turned around and addressed Sam. "I know you're upset. But no more hitting. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sam said quietly, arms crossed over his chest, still fuming.

"It's okay, Mom. I earned it." Dean said, walking over next to Sam. "I know I really worried you, Sammy. I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again."

"If I do, I won't let Mom stop you." Dean promised.

Sam thought over Dean's deal. "Okay."

"We good?" Dean asked, holding out a hand towards Sam.

"Yeah. Sure." Sam said, taking Dean's offered handshake. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Enough." Mary said. "Sam, go wait by the door."

"Yes, ma'am."

Mary watched as Sam walked to the front door of the bus station and sat down beside the entrance. Once she was satisfied that he was taken care of for the moment, she turned back to Dean.

"Dean? Can we talk?" Mary asked.

"I thought you didn't want to talk."

"Honey, that isn't what I meant." Mary said, taking her seat next to Dean.

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry I bothered you with it."

Mary sighed. "Dean, listen to me. I'm sorry I said that you couldn't talk to me when you had a fight with your Dad. I didn't mean you couldn't talk to me when something was bothering you."

"But that's what you said…"

"What I meant was, I didn't want you and Dad to put me in the middle of your fights. Don't ask me to take sides in it. But if you're really feeling bad about something, you can always talk to me. Does that make sense?"

"I guess." Dean said.

"Dean, I always care when you're feeling hurt, or scared, or upset. Always. Don't ever doubt that."

Dean nodded. "Okay, Mom."

"John?"

John took a tentative seat next to Dean. "Hey, buddy."

"Hi."

John sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. "Listen, I think there's been a misunderstanding."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean about your quiz. Dean, I'm crazy proud of you for that."

A surprised Dean looked up at John. "Really?"

"Really. Look, I know I don't always tell you that…"

"You _never _tell me that."

"Okay. I never tell you that. But that doesn't mean I don't feel that way, son. I love you and I'm proud of you."

"You always tell Mom and Sammy that. Why can't you say it to me?"

"I don't know, bud." When Dean scoffed and looked away, John sighed. "I'm not trying to avoid the question, Dean. I really don't know. I don't know why it's easier for me to say these things to Sam and not to you. I really don't. But if you come home with me, I promise I'll work on it."

Dean thought about the offer, and decided John seemed to be sincere. "Okay, Dad. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Running away. Worrying you and Mom."

"I know you are."

"How much trouble am I in?"

John looked to Mary, who seemed to find the question as surprising as he did. "We hadn't really talked about that. But we can't just let this go, Dean. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"But, since me and dad had a part in this too, I think being grounded to the house for this week is enough. What do you think about that, John?"

"I think that sounds great." John said.

"That's it?" Dean asked. "I don't have to stay in my room or…anything else?"

"No. Nothing else." Mary said. "I figured this would be a good week for all of us to spend some time together. Then, next weekend, I thought we'd take a road trip. To Springfield."

Dean smiled. "You mean…?"

"I called Jimmy's parents. You're both out of school the week after next. Your dad and I will drop you off, stay the weekend, then they'll send you back on the bus before you go back to school."

"Thanks, guys."

"You're welcome, bud. Come on, let's head home and get to bed."

"Yes, ma'am." Dean said. "Dad? I know I'm grounded, but can we try the movie night again?"

"Sure, buddy. How about we let Mom and Sammy stay with us this time? Just to make sure we don't get in another argument? Then maybe after you get back from Jimmy's, we'll try it on our own." 

"Deal."

"Let's go, bud."

An hour later, after driving back home and putting both kids back to bed, neither parent could resist going into Dean's room and checking to make sure he was actually there. Mary met John in the hallway.

"I think we did good, Dad. What do you think?"

"I think you're right, Mom. We did good."


End file.
